


noice, smort

by dearzoemurphy



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Asshole Jake, Cuties, Drinking, F/M, First Meeting, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Mid-Canon, One Shot, Six-Drink Amy Santiago, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 04:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17481527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearzoemurphy/pseuds/dearzoemurphy
Summary: Six drink Amy meets a charming young man at a bar and does her best to shoot her shot.





	noice, smort

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is my first Peraltiago fic but I love them to death so I hope you enjoy!!

“Hey, cutie. So what's your deal?” Amy asked, leaning over the bar towards the dark haired man sitting next to her.

“What's my deal? Well, what part of my deal are you interested in?” the man asked.

Amy attempted to prop her head up on her hand, but almost fell forward into the person next to her instead. “Like, what's your name? Where do you work? How did you become so damn adorable?” she elaborated.

The man smirked and spun his chair so that he was facing Amy. “In order, my name is Jake Peralta, I work for the NYPD, and my mommy loved me and gave me the best of her genes,” he replied.

“Jake, Jake, Jake, I know a Jake! I…don't remember who he is. But I think I know one,” the brown eyed woman mused.

“You do, huh? That's a crazy coincidence,” Jake responded, taking a sip of his drink, “here, let me buy you another round.”

“Mmm, I don't know, I think that would be my fourth. Or seventh. Or eleventeenth,” Amy replied, shifting back on her stool and nearly falling off of it again.

Jake only held out an arm to keep her propped up and flagged down the bartender. “Hello good sir, could you get this lovely woman another of whatever she last ordered? On my tab,” he asked.

The bartender smiled knowingly. “It's on the house,” he said, pouring out a glass of straight whiskey and handing it to Amy.

“Oooo mama, I really shouldn't be having this,” she said, picking up the glass and examining it in the light before taking a big swig.

Jake smiled. “Alright, I told you what my deal is, what’s yours?” he inquired, amused as he continued to sip his drink.

“My name is Amsie, no, I mean, Ansley. No! Amsley. Nope, Amy. That's it. Finally got it,” she said, triumphant by the time she finally got it right.

“Wow, that really took a lot of effort,” the dark haired man joked, holding back a laugh.

Amy frowned. “Don't make fun of me! I'll report you to the bully box,” she said, upset as she downed the rest of her whiskey.

“The bully box?!” Jake asked, almost spitting out his drink.

The brunette leaned forward. “The bully box is the most serious and…and straightforward way to report an issue of harassment within the school system,” she explained, completely serious.

“Bad news, the real world doesn't give you bully boxes,” the brown eyed man said, setting down his glass and patting Amy’s hand.

The woman was taken aback. “You're wrong. I don't even care though, I'd still bone ya,” she asked, suddenly becoming flirtatious as she tried to reach her free hand across to brush a lock of stray hair out of Jake’s face.

“Noice! Smort,” he said, unable to say much else since he was barely containing his amusement at the situation.

“So does that mean we’re gonna do this thing?” Amy asked, starting to move across onto Jake’s lap.

“Ah, well, that's the thing…I'm taken,” Jake said, drawing back his hand.

Amy stopped moving, looking shocked. “Oh! I'm…so sorry. Of course you are. And I'm just…” she trailed off, shrinking back into her seat and tucking her hair behind both ears.

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Of course? Am I really that alluring?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“I don't know, you're just really cute and funny and I kinda find you obnoxious but I still wanna screw you in a broom closet,” the brunette answered.

“That last part was oddly specific…” Jake noted.

“But…it's okay. Nothing ever works out for me…” Amy started, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

Jake’s jaw dropped. “Oh no. This is no longer fun,” he said to himself, smiling nervously.

The woman looked up bashfully. “What do you mean?” she asked, tears now flowing freely down her face.

“Ames…you got so drunk that you forgot who I am. And forgot that we're dating,” Jake explained, barely able to contain his laughter as he wiped Amy’s tears away.

Her reaction was slow, her face morphing from devastation to shock to rage. “Oh my god, Jake! You let six drink Amy forget everything about herself?” she exclaimed, suddenly acting stone cold sober.

Her boyfriend laughed so hard that he could barely breathe, all while still attempting to hold Amy’s face and dry her tears. “I'm sorry, I just had to see how you would hit on me if we had met while you were super drunk in a semi-seedy establishment,” he said, rubbing her back.

Amy laughed lightly, tears still running. “I mean, I probably just said you were cute, at the most,” she rationalized, slurring her speech slightly.

“Nope! You said you wanted to screw me in a broom closet,” Jake corrected gleefully.

His girlfriend looked horrified at her own actions. “What?! I think it might be time for you to meet seven drink Amy…” she said, sniffling and aiding Jake in drying her eyes.

He cocked his head to the side. “What is she like?” he asked curiously, taking her hands in his.

“You know four drink Amy?” she replied.

“Decently well, yes. She's really fun at parties,” Jake affirmed, a glint in his eye.

Amy leaned in closer so that her face was almost completely against her boyfriend’s. “Seven drink Amy does everything that four drink Amy talks about,” she whispered sultrily.

Jake attempted to hide his sudden excitement. “Well, I suppose we should find a broom closet after another round, then?” he proposed.

Amy nodded and was about to lean in further to kiss him when she leaned right off of her stool and onto the floor. She barely hit before immediately springing back up.

“I'm okay! I'm okay, one more drink then it's broom closet-ville,” she yelled, failing to be subtle.

“Alright, but on second thought, let's just get you home,” Jake amended, standing up and looping an arm around Amy to help her walk.

“Yup. I think I actually legitimately twisted my ankle. Every part of my body is crying out in pain and my ears are burning,” she agreed.

“I think the last two are just the alcohol,” her boyfriend suggested.

“Another good call,” Amy said simply, “but can I still screw you? The broom closet thing doesn't really matter, our bed or our own closet will do.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeah yeah I was inspired by that one meme from a while ago asgshsjsl, anyway I hope you all enjoyed!! I had fun writing this, but we'll see what I think of it when I read it again in the morning. please leave any thoughts and opinions in the comments, and maybe some Peraltiago prompts you'd like to see?? I just absolutely love these two but have no idea what to write for them


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